


Anthony's Awakening

by Dualitydisorder



Category: Mage: the Awakening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 19:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6767371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dualitydisorder/pseuds/Dualitydisorder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I decided to make a series based on my friends and I becoming mages. The first work is not me as you would expect but, my friend Anthony. I want to see what the World of Darkness will do to us or what we will do to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anthony's Awakening

Anthony's awakening. 

I've never felt so trapped. so cornered. I got myself into this mess and there's no one around to blame but me. everything's falling around my head and I just don't have anymore hope to delude myself with. I want to run, i want to hide. just do anything but go out there and see more disappointment. especially when there's more inside than outside. It seems like even the simplest of tasks slips through my fingers. If I move forward i'm going to hate myself, and if I stay here I'm going to hate myself later. My own failure sits there mocking me half finished... on the pedestal I put it on no less!

It’s just one work, one picture that I had weeks to do and let rot because of my own cowardice.   
* am I just destined for failure no matter what I do? *  
**and Its things like this that make you unable to do anything worthwhile you crybaby!**

*just shut up!  
**-Why? so you can run away again?**

**look at it! that painting is you: incomplete sad and hopeless. **

I squeeze my eyes shut. I know that if I open them that I'll see it. the easel that holds that mess that I'm trying to turn in for a grade. the canvas that hold my future smeared with the fetid garbage of what I call my work ethic. 

**look at it. Acknowledge it. it's right there!**

*you always do this! why can't you stop being an asshole to yourself for five seconds! *

**because If I do you'll never open your damn eyes.**

I know for a fact that I didn't open my eyes. I know for a fact that I was hunched over on the ground about to curl up into the fetal position. and I definately know for a fact that I was INDOORS when I last checked. great, I must have fallen asleep. Well now at least I'll be well rested when shit hits the fan. 

this is really vivid even for a dream.something's moving, breathing but what? but it all feels artificial. trees made of broken glass, berries that are styrofoam, plastic rivers. but I can hear a heartbeat somewhere. There's a living thing here... and I've got to find it if I want to be safe. I just start digging I don't know fucking why I just dig. I dig straight down and keep going , through pile and pile of completely profane slurry. I start ripping and tearing through the the false plant matter, the repugnant replacement of dirt, and the damnable shit filled rocks. burning my hands in the molten plastic water table, reach in and pull out the the still beating heart underneath the scorching filth.

An actual beating heart.

My hands burn, my fingers bloody and raw; but I can't help but feel triumphant. It should feel sickening but I feel pleased. this place is wrong but I feel so safe. I need to walk away.

I need more. 

I bring it up to my lips and before I can even think I'm eating it. It kept beating even when I was eating it. The deep red flesh, the pumping valves, even it's somehow flowing veins. It's still alive. somewhere in my guts it's still alive ...still beating.

and now there's a pulling feeling. I know this feeling some how. I eat it, and it eats me. no eat isn't exactly the right word. we were becoming each other, becoming the same, becoming me. It's glorious, and terrifying, and AMAZING, and ABSOLUTELY CREEPY. I can't escape it. do I want to? I have no clue. I'm confused but I've never felt more sure in my life. 

I open my eyes, even though I know for a fact that I didn't close them. I'm not scared, not even as I look down at myself to see a body that's not my own. It looks like a cross between a werewolf and a very very old oak tree. moss hanging from my shoulders like a cape. topsoil and bark as my skin, thorns as my claws bulbs, seeds and polyps bursting out of the cracks. all of this and I'm not scared it feels just like everyday me, like my mind knows what it's looking at deep in my subconscious. It's enchanting but for some reason I feel disappointed.

My "body" starts climbing. climbing out of this hole that I dug. I must have been at it for longer than I thought because I can't even see the top. this strange yet not strange body just keeps moving not tiring at all letting everything it touches return to nature. every plastic bottle becomes a stone, the styrofoam becoming soil and roots. It spreads like dye in water. this man made land returns to nature, and it's wonderful, and beautiful, and why am I still so disappointed?!

Am I not even allowed to enjoy this? What the hell did I do to the world? My ears perk up. a voice, a very soft female voice calls my name. I whirl in place looking for the melody calling me, but I can only catch a glimpse of this long bright hair. I don't have to wait for my body to go on autopilot as I'm already running after it. 

whoever it is leads me on a damn long chase. like a sprite leading a wanderer astray, I never see more than that flash of bright long hair. I get the feeling their leading me too something, but what?

then a chill runs down my spine as I take in the smell of smoke.

I can already feel the heat on my face. I start to panic. i hunch low and start curling in on myself, start eating at my self, start disappearing. It hurts but I don't want to burn. I can hear promises and charming whispers from beyond the flames. they tell me it won't hurt. that i'll like it there and I want so badly to believe them. but I also don't want to burn. so I keep curling in, keep ripping and tearing and eating and disappearing. I DON'T WANT TO BURN. 

A single hand grabs my shoulder. a second pulls my chin up to look into the most beautiful smile I've ever seen. not because of a particular feature but because of the emotion and kindness behind it. Also she was completely made of fire. 

"if you don't believe me then I'll show you" she says, the very voice that lead me. 

this time she guided me. Straight through a grove of trees that was on fire... but didn't burn. It was terrifying but the gentle grip on my wrist calmed me enough to feel it out. It didn't burn, it was warm. each tree in the grove was different made of different things and smelled of a different incense. each flame was different like a person. because each and everything here was alive.

this woman was taking me to the center, and in that center was a single tree that wasn't on fire. looking at it made that feeling of disappointment come bubbling back up. I hated it.

It was me. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. It was me. not just this tree but the beating heart as well. everything I touched was just me. I knew what I needed to do. The woman of fire held out a single finger, and I touched my finger to hers. her fire crawled up my hand, but it felt like it was always supposed to be there. my right hand touched my left and now I was lighting both ends of the fuse. I walked toward the tree. myself.

I reached out with both hands and spread the fire on the bark. It was on fire, I was on fire, everything was on fire. but that's ok because it needed to be. and for the last time I opened my eyes even though I didn't close them.

My hand finished the last stroke. The project was done. my canvas was full and It looked good too. I didn't need to wonder as I knew what happened the berry bushes growing from my walls was more than enough proof. 

Deal with one problem and another sprouts up, but I'm prepared for it now. I feel free.


End file.
